


Forty Eight Hours

by kooili



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 02:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15014240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: Some of the ways Bernie and Serena spent their forty eight hours together.





	Forty Eight Hours

**_Hour One_ **

Bernie smiles in recognition as the car takes a left turn onto Serena’s street. It’s been a while but the sight is familiar. The red pillar box on the corner. The leafy lilac trees in full bloom peeking over the hedge of number eighteen - the branches were straggly twigs of brown wood the last time she saw them, so long ago.

Too long.

She glances at Serena and stares, her eyes entranced anew by the shape and lines of that magnificent face as she concentrates on the road. Her hand reaches automatically towards Serena’s thigh, stroking it in a gentle up and down motion.

“Have I told you how much I like your hair this way?”

Serena takes her left hand off the steering wheel and covers the back of Bernie’s right, giving it a light squeeze.

“You might have. A time or two.” She squeezes the hand a little tighter before letting it go. “Here we are then.” Serena smiles pulling the car to a halt. “Home.”

“Home,” Bernie echoes in agreement and when Serena turns, she finds Bernie’s eyes fixed on her instead of the leafy detached.

 

**_Hour Three_ **

“God, Bernie…” Serena gasps, clutching onto the taut muscles of Bernie’s back as her breathing quickens, nerve endings tingling with each movement of Bernie’s fingers between her thighs.

“I’ve got you,” Bernie murmurs, face buried in the crook of Serena’s neck, nuzzling the straining tendons. She plants gentle kisses along her skin, her hand continuing its steady rhythm. “I love the way you feel around me. So hot, so wet…”

The soft moan leaving Serena’s lips turns into a sharp mewl when Bernie curls a finger just so, in a come hither motion. “I love you darling, and I want you to come for me.”

The words, half a plea and half an order, are all it takes to push Serena over the edge. Her fingernails dig deep into Bernie’s skin, and she knows the grip is hard enough that it will leave marks later but she is too far gone to care, waves of pleasure wracking through her body. Stuttered curses punctuated with Bernie’s name fall from her lips before her eyelids finally flutter open. Her vision is still filled with spots and starbursts of random patterns pulsating in time with the hammering of her heart as the room starts returning into focus.

“I love you too,” Serena croaks when she finally regains the power of speech. “So much.”

 

**_Hour Four_ **

She wonders, not for the first time, if Serena had ever played an instrument. A violin. No, a cello, she thinks. Tucked closely between her thighs as she teases a melody out of the tightly strung strings. Her next thought disappears into a puff of smoke when Serena places a kiss below her navel.

Her body feels disconnected, as if it is floating in mid-air.

The unseen force in control of her body moves downwards, pushing her legs apart and a new sensation hits her squarely between her thighs. A tongue, hot and sure licks into just the right spot.

“Fuck…” The word comes out as more of a hiss and the movement stops.

Her hips protest immediately, thrusting upwards of their own accord, and fall back onto the mattress when they find thin air.

“Language.” Serena’s eyes are feral as she teases. This is where she’s in her element, probing, teasing, toying until she’s ready to give.

Bernie would normally protest and threaten to take care of herself at this point but five months’ of need and hunger have stripped her of any and all resolve.

“Please.”

Serena lifts her head a little higher, revealing lips glistening with wetness. “Please what, darling?”

Bernie groans and thrusts her hips upwards.

 

**_Hour Seven_ **

Serena takes the stairs slowly, keeping the tray as steady as she can. It is laden with sandwiches, nibbles and dips and the all important bottle of Shiraz. This should be enough for a spontaneous midnight feast, she thinks.

And to keep them going for the rest of the night.

Muscles long unused ache pleasantly as she mounts the final few steps. Her lips curl into a satisfied grin.

Oh, yes, there’s still at least four months’ worth of catching up to do.

The bedroom door is ajar, the way she had left it and she pauses, ears pricking when she hears a particular sound, a low buzz at first, growing louder as the intensity increases for a few seconds before going silent.

“You’ve been busy,” Serena purrs, pushing the door open with her toes.

“I’ve been getting acquainted with your friend,” Bernie answers with a smirk, dangling the short plastic cylinder between her thumb and forefinger.

She sets the tray down onto the armchair before slipping off the dressing gown, climbing into bed. “That,” Serena says as she plucks the pocket-sized tube from Bernie’s hand, “is the other hobby I’ve taken up. In your absence.”

“More satisfying than knitting?” Bernie teases, her eyes darkening.

“Oh yes.”

“Why don’t you show me.”

 

**_Hour Sixteen_ **

Serena drops the last of the bags on top of the nearest box and straightens herself with a tired sigh.

“Out of shape, darling?” Bernie teases, following her out of the garage with a box of her own.

Her cheek earns her one of Serena’s patented glares but the effect is ruined by the upward twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“Someone wore me out.”

Bernie chuckles as she reaches up for the cord dangling from the roof of the garage door, pulling it downwards. “Perhaps you should do less knitting and more-”

A muffled ringtone interrupts her, and she motions Serena towards the left hand pocket of her coat. “Could you?” Bernie grabs the edge of the metal door and encourages it downwards towards the ground.

Serena retrieves the phone and looks at the screen. “Crank and Kendal?”

The door shuts with a loud bang and Bernie dusts her hands off before taking the phone from Serena’s hand. “It’s the estate agent.”

Serena smiles as she watches while Bernie answers the phone.

“That’s perfect. And thanks again for all your help.” Bernie is about to hang up when the voice at the other end of the line stops her. “Yes, the keys, of course. I’ll drop them off in half an hour or so. Right then, see you soon.”

“All good?” Serena asks as soon as Bernie drops the mobile back into her pocket.

“Yes, the money’s in the account and they just need the keys.”

Serena looks at the bags and boxes around their feet and bends over to pick the first one up. “Let’s get these loaded up then.”

It takes a bit of organization but they just about manage to get everything into the car.

Bernie climbs into the passenger seat just as Serena starts the engine.

“I need to stop and get keys for the storage container on the way. It’s down by the river.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Serena answers immediately. “I’m sure this’ll all fit in the loft. And there’s space in the shed in the back garden as well.”

Bernie peeks out from under her fringe with a tentative smile. “Are you sure?”

Serena’s hand finds hers and links their fingers together, squeezing tightly, “Of course. No point paying for a container when we have plenty of room at ours.”

The uncertainty evaporates and Bernie’s face lights up with the brightest smile since they kissed in the foyer.

 

**_Hour Twenty Five_ **

“God, I’ve missed this,” Bernie moans, her head dipping in for another taste. There is a look of rapture on her face as she savours the sensation against her tongue.

Serena is entranced, helpless to do anything other than watch the mop of golden tangles, relishing the sight of her partner bent over, intent on ravaging what’s in front of her. She swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry when Bernie makes the most obscenely erotic sound as she devours her latest mouthful.

“Darling...” Serena takes a sip of her wine, clearing her throat.

The head lifts and what she sees makes her fall in love a little more with the wonderful woman in front of her.

“You’ve got a bit, just here…” Serena leans forward and swipes her thumb along the corner of Bernie’s mouth. She pulls her hand towards her mouth, deliberately watches and waits for just the right moment before wrapping her lips around her thumb. There is a soft pop as she pulls it out and she is smug with delight at the glazed eyes staring back at her.

“It’s just shepherd's pie. I’ll email the recipe across if you want.”

 

**_Hour Thirty Eight_ **

Serena stirs and immediately reaches for her phone before realising that the alarm hasn’t sounded. Perhaps she’s woken because of the morning light streaming the parted curtains. Perhaps it’s out of sheer habit. Or it might be something to do with the lanky limbs wrapping round her, in the fashion of a big spoon.

“You’re up,” a voice rough with sleep murmurs into her ear and Serena immediately feels the embrace tightening.

Serena yawns and turns her cheek towards the kisses now peppering her jaw. “Did I wake you?”

Bernie reaches down and covers Serena’s hand with her own, threading their fingers together and pulling them downwards.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

Serena’s breath hitches and they drift lower, past her navel, stopping just where smooth skin turns into a rougher texture.

Bernie pulls her a little closer and throws a thigh across Serena’s hip and there is no mistaking her intention. Serena groans and grinds backwards instinctively, eager to provide the needed friction. The grip hardens and Bernie pushes their joined hands downwards into wet heat.

The motion sends a jolt of electricity through her entire body.

Bernie teases at first, gently, but she knows it’s impossible to keep this up for long, not with the way Serena is whispering dirty expletives into the side of her neck. She swivels her thumb where Serena wants it to be and applies just the right pressure.

Time stands still for a moment, as they hang on the precipice before she follows Serena into the abyss.

They stay tangled, chests heaving.Their breathing is the only sound in the room but it’s soon punctuated by the sound of birdsong and passing traffic just outside the window.

“Good morning,” Bernie mumbles, once her ability to speak returns.

Serena turns round and wraps her arms around the slim waist. She angles her face upwards and gets her expected reply. She feels rather than sees Bernie’s satisfied smirk.

“Yes, it is. But you’re wrong…” Serena leaves her words hanging while she trails her lips down Bernie’s neck.

“What about?” Bernie answers. Her eyelids flutter shut for a moment when Serena finds that particular spot between her collarbones.

“I’d come six and a half thousand miles for thumb twiddling. Any day of the week.”

 

**_Hour Forty Eight_ **

“Are you sure you’ve got everything you need?”

They share a look, knowing the obvious answer. There are a few precious minutes left before the tannoy sounds, calling out the flight number and gate.

“Yes,” Bernie answers seriously. “Ticket. Passport. Crunchie bars.”

Serena stares at her partner and they both break into laughter. Arms wrap around her and she lets loose a ragged sigh before breathing in the smell that is Bernie Wolfe.

Her Bernie.

Her partner.

Her life.

As if on cue, the announcement sounds, echoing in the huge open space.

“I’ll call when I land,” Bernie whispers against her lips.

They kiss, savouring and committing every taste and touch to memory. This is what they have to sustain them and, for the first time in their relationship, it is enough.

Bernie is determined not to let tears spoil the moment but her eyes are shimmering when she speaks again. “I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Serena answers, a stoic expression on her face, belying the tears she’s holding back. “I’ll see you soon, stranger.”

Serena watches as the slim figure strides towards the gate and disappears round the corner and lets loose a ragged sob. She swipes the corner of her eyes and manages a watery smile.

Six months.

Four thousand, three hundred and eighty hours.


End file.
